Archive of Our Own

Love wasn't in your cards.

That was something you had to wake up and realize, seeing the empty space in your sleeping bag that seemed twice as big now, despite being made for only one person.

You weren't surprised, you couldn't be, you knew Nicholas D. Wolfwood well enough despite him only being in your life for the span of a couple weeks. He seemed... Non-committal, avoidant, and definitely bad at expressing feelings, let alone understanding them.

Still, though, the short lived pang in your chest made you visibly wince. Either that, or the sun peering over the dunes, momentarily blinding you. It seemed you were the first to wake up, thank the gods for that, because you wouldn't know how to explain your brief moment of melancholy to the honest, good-hearted people around you. They would all be waking up shortly, so you were quick to recoup. Rubbing your eyes, slapping your cheeks, and standing from your sleeping bag, you vowed to carry on bravely. It was a moment of passion, you were both looking for a lifeline. 

At least, that's what you told yourself. You had been silently pining over Wolfwood for nearly the entire time he had been traveling with you, but it was time to shove those feelings deep, deep down, bottle them up and put them on the shelf of regrets and things left unsaid. You would have time to reminisce over it later down the line in your life.

Poorly rolling up your crumpled sleeping bag, making sure to smack the sand out of the creases in the process lest you want it in every single crevice next time you find yourself stranded. That action must have roused Vash from his sleep, as you could hear a small groan from beside you. It made you smile, shaking your head. For someone constantly on the run, he seemed so carefree sometimes. That was just so undeniably Vash, though.

"Good morning," Vash rasped, both hands coming up to rub his eyes, before placing his glasses on his face.

"Mornin'," You returned, clipping the straps over your sleeping bag to hold it in place.

"Did you sleep alright? I thought I heard you up pretty late, and now you're the first up."

You weren't sure why you didn't expect Vash to be perceptive, considering it's in his passive nature to worry about and care for the people around him. The slightly bitter purse of your lips seemed to give you away, and he obviously took the hint not to pursue how you were feeling any further. 

"Well, once we get to the next town over, we'll get a motel or something and you can nap. Don't worry about coming to get the car with us."

A poignant smile graced your lips, more than likely noticed by Vash. 

"Thank you."

It didn't need to be said, but you wanted to voice your appreciation to him whenever you could. You noticed in your travels together he didn't get that a lot, being that his reputation as The Human Typhoon preceded him. You'd been witness to some of the horrible things that followed Vash and his attempts at helping the general populous, and at first it terrified you, but after watching him dust himself off and get back up every single time, you came to admire him more than anything. 

Vash stood, kicking some sand over the makeshift fire pit that was most definitely already completely out, not that there was anything anywhere around you to catch fire anyways. 

"Looks like Meryl and Roberto are up," You stated, thumb pointing to the open passenger door of the vehicle several feet away. Meryl was already hopped out, and Roberto sat up groggily in the back seat. No Wolfwood, you took note after a glance around the area. 

"Great! We can head off right away... then..." Vash trailed off, glancing around the area. Seems as though he had the same realization you did. "Do you know–" 

"Let's get going." 

Both you and Vash whipped around, seeing Wolfwood walking over and down the nearest sand dune, his cross slung over his back in the usual fashion. You tried to make eye contact, but it seems he wasn't interested in catching your gaze, let alone acknowledging you at all. 

Maybe letting everything roll off your back would be harder than you anticipated. 

"Ahh, it's already so hot... I thought waking up early we would be able to beat some of the heat," You heard Meryl groan, earning a chuckle from both you and Vash. "How far is the next town?"

"Uhm, twelve or so miles?" Vash seemed unsure, running his intricate cybernetic hand through his fluffy hair. So it could take you up to four hours to get there? By the time everyone had come to the consensus that it was time to leave right now immediately, Wolfwood was already a good several yards ahead, obviously having no intention of slowing his pace. 

The trek there was awful. You were tired, hungry, covered in grime and sweat, and Christ almighty, you could absolutely crush a glass of water. It didn't even have to be cold, you'd take lukewarm. You and Vash walked side by side, occasionally joined by Meryl and Roberto for a chat. At some point during your venture, Wolfwood had ended up behind everyone, probably something to do with his inability to trust anyone and everyone around him, or maybe you were just being bitter. 

"Wahhh, I'm so tired," You whined, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. You intentionally made it seem exaggerated, hoping covering it up as fun and games make the shake of your legs less obvious as you walked up another mountain of sand beside Vash. "How much longer until we're there?"

"We should be– should– oh, we're here!" Vash exclaimed after you had reached the top of the dune.

You felt like you could cry tears of joy if your body had any moisture left in it at all, so instead you settled and a pathetic little cheer, your knees wobbling and threatening to give out. Your blond companion seemed to notice this, his metal arm coming down to your waist. He didn't touch you, simply hovering just in case you were to collapse. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to keep you from falling. Wolfwood walked in front of the two of you, bumping Vash in the shoulder with his cross as he passed. He stumbled, arm catching around your waist, nearly causing both of you to tumble down the hill.

His sour mood made you scowl after you and Vash had gotten your bearings, in which you got a very frantic apology despite nothing being his fault. Wolfwood was simply acting like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. 

The group of you got to town, branching off in your respectful directions. You and Meryl made a beeline to the nearest and only motel in this tiny backwash town, deciding it would save on money if everyone paired up into their respective rooms. You and Meryl would share, as would Wolfwood and Roberto, leaving Vash his own room. You mutually decided he deserved privacy, considering he was the one that got everyone here in the first place. (You also decidedly left out the fact you were in this predicament because of him as well, since he was on car-charging duty.)

Despite the slightly murky water and shitty soap that made your skin too dry, you accepted the cramped motel shower with open arms– after you had gotten a good late lunch in you– the lukewarm water sending goosebumps up your body. It might as well have been ice cold, considering you were in the direct sun and ridiculous heat for the first four, nearly five hours of your day. Your only respite in the sweltering heat was when Vash used his body to block the rays from hitting you first thing, but once the sun was high in the sky he could do nothing to save you.

Fresh out of the shower, you sighed at your bag thrown on the bed. Your day clothes were hanging to dry, so really that only left you to putter about in your sleepwear. Not that this was an issue, considering you planned staying in this dingy motel room for the next twelve plus hours. You slipped your sleep shorts on, tugging the ratty worn t-shirt over your head soon after, flopping onto the bed with a huff. Meryl had gone out, most likely to the nearest market to stock up on supplies while Roberto, Vash, and Wolfwood fetched the car with a fully charged portable battery in hand.

It wouldn't hurt to take a nap, you thought, considering how little you managed to sleep last night. You kicked your foot pathetically, cheeks flushing at the recollection of how warm his embrace was. Doesn't matter if he's just gonna be a dick to me after 

With a heavy, exasperated sigh, you pulled the blanket and sheet back from the bed, only flipping the thinner of the two on top of your body. He didn't explicitly tell you that you'd get to talk about it, he just made a noise and you had made an assumption. You really don't know what you were expecting of him, you didn't know why it bothered you so much. It was fine, everything would be fine, you just had to get over yourself and everything could go back to normal. It wasn't like he was treating you any different, he was probably just grumpy because he had to walk twelve miles on what felt like the hottest day of the goddamn year.

Everything was going to be fine. You just needed a nap.



You awoke with a slight start, eyes adjusting to the dark of the room. Meryl laid beside you, her back rising and falling at a steady pace. It was obvious she'd been asleep for a while with how disheveled the blankets were around her, and the slight tousle of her hair. Fuck, you hadn't meant to sleep this long, you didn't even hear her come into the room. You stretched your legs, swinging them over the side of the bed, and sliding your shoes on. You hoped the motel lobby was still open at the very least, and also hoped they sold snacks and drinks. 

As quietly as you could, you opened the squeaky motel door, sliding out, and shutting it behind you. Luck really was not on your side today, was all you could think as you came face to face with the closed blinds in the windows of the motel lobby. The open sign was flipped, all the lights were off, and not a soul adorned the streets. Considering how high the moons were in the sky, you could only assume it was pretty late. 

Well fuck.

Heaving another sigh, you dejectedly turned heel, heading back to your shared room. What you didn't expect was bumping into another person on your way there. Wolfwood stood outside his- Vash's room? It was fine, everything was fine

You tried to get away without saying anything, but having to walk past him in silence seemed to be mission impossible, especially considering the circumstances. 

"Why are you standing outside Vash's room?" You asked, hand coming up to the door handle of your shared space. 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the numbered key ring and spinning it around his finger. "Traded," He mused, fingers tapping the cigarette he held in his hands, "Why, disappointed?" 

It was intentional, you knew he was trying to get under your skin, that's what he did, and as much as you wanted to say you wouldn't fall for it, you absolutely did. "No, I was just curious. I already told you, it's not like that."

Wolfwood hummed in response, low and void of melody or emotion, almost like he was mocking you. "Right, and I'm Mother Mary." 

"Listen," You hissed, removing your hand from the door knob and taking a quick two strides over to him, "I'm okay with pretending like nothing happened last night, that's fine, but that doesn't give you an excuse to be shitty to me. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine too, but don't be a dick."

This seemed to irk him, the scrunch of his nose surprising you. "Who said I didn't want to talk about it?"

God, you wanted to rip your hair out. Or his. It was fifty-fifty.

"You're the one that ignored me all day," You whisper yelled, pointedly shoving a finger into his chest, "You're the one that wanted to act like nothing happened, you're the one that was nowhere to be seen first thing in the morning!"

"Oh, I didn't realize you wanted an audience for it. If that's the case, why don't we wake everyone up and call them out here?" 

You raised your hands, dragging the heels of your palms down your face in frustration. "I can't win with you, Wolfwood. You're impossible. I'm going to bed." 

As you turned on your heel, you felt his hand close around your wrist. It was warm, electrifying. 
 
"You said you wanted to talk about it. Let's talk about it."

A response you didn't think you'd ever hear from Nicholas D. Wolfwood. You sighed, nodding slowly, but when you turned to him he was releasing his grip on you and headed to the door of his room. "Not out here," He muttered, stamping out his cigarette while opening the door for you.

Stepping inside, you saw his cross leaning up against the wall in the corner, but other than that nothing else was out of place. His room looked entirely clean, no belongings strewn about, the covers on bed were still fitted and tucked. Did he ever sleep?

You kicked your shoes off and heard the door click closed behind you, making you vaguely aware that you were completely alone with Wolfwood once again. Through the thin walls, you could hear snoring, and you weren't passively aware of everyone's sleeping patterns enough to tell if it was Vash or Roberto, or both. You nervously wiped your palms against your sleep shorts, bravely turning around to look up at Wolfwood. His arms were crossed over his chest, standing tall in front of you. The longer you stood in silence, the more desperate you became for any kind of saviour.

"Okay, I guess I'll go first," You whispered, stepping back and taking a seat on the edge of the untouched bed, "I... expected things to be like this. I was happy about what happened last night, but I mean... you don't exactly seem the type to want that kind of thing, y'know?"

Silence.

"It was nice indulging, lying to myself, telling myself that's really what you wanted as well," You picked at the skin on your fingers, acutely aware of Wolfwood stepping away from the door and closer to you, "That you wanted me. That it wasn't just... I dunno, us being caught up in the moment?"

You were embarrassing yourself. What were you saying? He was going to laugh at you and call you an idiot, traveling with everyone just got that much more awkward. A small part of you wondered if you should just pack up your stuff and disappear into the night. The likelihood of you making it even a week with no food, no weapons, no money was absolutely slim, but it was a risk you were willing to take. You would leave a note for Vash, he would understand–

"You done?"

Blinking dumbly, you finally glanced up. He was much closer than you had anticipated, or even noticed, the proximity making you swallow the lump in your throat. Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded, a shaky exhale pushing past your lips when he began to lean down.

"Good."

His breath fanned over your face when he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to tilt your head back and crane your neck up. It seemed so easy for him, the way he pressed his lips against yours, the way his hand trailed feather light touches up your jaw, fingers moving back to tangle in the hairs at the nape of your neck and tug oh so gently.

And as you were, right here, right now, you didn't want anything else.

It's like he knew exactly what strings to pluck to make your heart sing, knew what to touch and where to have you wanting more and more of him.

Or maybe you just felt that way about him all on your own.

You parted, but not for long, only pulling back long enough for him to start leaning you back, one of his knees on the bed as he knelt over you. He had a hand on either side of you, bracketing you in, much like he had done last night but this was just so different. There was no confusion, astonishment, or impulse. This was planned, this was calculated and it was desperate. His lips were desperate to feel you, his tongue was desperate to taste you.

It was suffocating, having him lean into you, press his chest to yours, coax your mouth open with his tongue. It was dizzying, and instead of allowing yourself to dive headfirst into the glue trap that was Wolfwood's affections, you pulled back.

"Wait, Wolfwo–"

"Nicholas," He breathed into your neck, licking at your pulse point once before biting down. You whined, feeling his canines press harshly into your skin. "I told you to call me Nicholas."

Hands planted on his chest, giving a gentle push, but his lips and teeth and tongue made quick work of your neck.

"W–Wait, please–" You insisted, giving a gentle push on his chest, "I don't–"

Wolfwood pulled back, only far enough for him to look up at you out of the corner of his eye. His body was rigid again, unsure, muscles tense. He panted, breathing uneven and hurried, but ultimately nodded, huffing out, "I'm sorry, I thought– this seemed like this is where things were going."

His body pulled back first, his leg sliding down the edge of the bed when he pushed back to stand. This time you were the one to grab him, your fingers closing in on the lapel of his blazer. You were both ruddy cheeked, eyes half lidded as you stared at each other.

You took a second to compose yourself, voice small and breathless. "I want you, but–" He pushed forwards again, knee back on the bed. You choked on your words, keeping your hand on his blazer, "But, I feel like we didn't really talk about things."

It was a wonder to see Wolfwood at a loss for words. Still, he pushed forward, much slower this time. He leaned into you, closer, hovering mere inches above your lips. "'m not exactly a man of many words, but," He placed a slow kiss on your lips, hands palming at your waist, "I'd like to show you how I feel."

All the air was punched out of your lungs, jaw hanging slack in awe at his forwardness. Part of you wondered how honest he was being with you, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes that had you falling back into his glue trap.

A nod was all it took before Wolfwood was dipping leaning you back down, kissing you so deep it made the room spin. Your eyes slid shut, every nerve ending electrifying when he would touch you, kiss you. His hands felt like molten fire against your skin when he grabbed at your inner thighs, parting them so he could comfortably slide in between. His touch moved down, around, holding under your knee as he wrapped your one leg around his waist. It was slow, but deliberate, the slide of his palm back up your leg, thigh, before settling on the meat of your hip. His other hand was just barely hovering beside your neck, fingers brushing back and forth along your jaw.

Something you could say you never expected of Wolfwood was the tenderness of fleeting touches.

When he pulled back from your mouth, you gasped, the string of spit connecting you snapping and soaking into the fabric of your night shirt, some of it dribbling down your chin. Despite not even being touched by him yet, you could feel how dizzy and– most likely– thoroughly fucked you looked.

"Fuck," Was all he growled, both hands under your ass to hike you further up the bed to make room for him. The rusty springs creaked in retaliation, the flimsy headboard gently tapping against the wall at the motion.

Impossibly warm hands scooped your other leg to wrap around his waist. His hips pressed down into you, pinning you to the bed, the seam of his zipper rubbing up into your clothed mound. You squeaked, hands coming up to his hair when he ran his tongue down the shell of your ear. He kissed, licked, bit every piece of skin he could reach, and all you could do was whine and sigh and take his affections.

Hot palms ran up your sides, taking your shirt along with them as he hiked it higher and higher, eventually getting to the peak of your chest. He stopped, peering up at you inquisitively, as if you would say anything except please rip my clothes off. Another nod from you, another smirk from him, and your shirt was quickly pulled up and over your head, leaving you half exposed and on display for him. You had half a mind to hide behind your arms– how long had it even been?– but he seemed to predict your train of thought and beat you to the punch.

Lips descended, trailing down to the concave of your chest, kissing your solar plexus. His tongue laved across your skin, circling a pert bud, before his mouth latched down and made quick work at diminishing your leftover self conscious thoughts. You were so caught up in trying not to make too much noise, you hadn't noticed the hand that came down between the apex of your thighs to swipe a thumb up the line of your clothed pussy. It made you gasp out a moan, hands flying up to slap over your mouth just a moment too late. He chuckled, seeming amused by your outburst, the vibrations making you shudder.

"You can relax," Wolfwood breathed into your skin, fingers replacing his mouth, "I won't bite unless you ask me to."

"You ah–already did!"

A grin, cocky and wide and toothy and just so undeniably Wolfwood, was all you got in return. You didn't have any time to chastise him, considering he was pushing one leg of your sleep shorts open with his index and middle finger. Descending back down to your mouth, he smirked, running his thumb up and down the line of your aching core, his voice a low growl. "No underwear?"

Tiny and meek, the little rebuttal of how these were your pajamas, of course you weren't going to wear unnecessary layers to bed died in your throat when the same fingers that coaxed open your shorts were spinning slow circles against your clit. The sound you made was airy, desperate, surprised at his forwardness and expertise with his hands

He kissed you once, twice, licking into your mouth and pressing his tongue up against yours as his fingers worked you up. They dipped down, trailing through your slick, then came back up with more fervor, tight circles winding you just a bit tighter. You moaned into his mouth, absolutely certain with how fucking wet you were already, you were going to ruin these sleep shorts.

There was no time to voice how tight the coil was twisting in your stomach, Wolfwood having pulled away much too fast for your liking right as you were starting to hump into his hand. He laughed down at you, sitting up and stripping your shorts from your body. "Don't look so disappointed," He mocked, shrugging the shoulders of his blazer off, "I'll give you better than that."

You squealed when he grabbed your ankles and yanked you back to the edge of the bed, pushing up on your forearms to ask him exactly what he planned on doing with half of you hanging off the bed like that, but the sight of him dropping to his knees on the floor answered your question. You think, possibly in that moment, that was the first genuine and honest reaction Wolfwood had to something that wasn't annoyance. He looked like a man depraved, starved, his hungry gaze watching your face as his mouth and tongue worked up your inner thighs. He looked debauched, hair messy, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and while usually his shirt was unbuttoned up top, it trailed much further down, exposing the dark patch of hair disappearing into his tented pants.

Good God.

"Ain't no God here," Wolfwood verbalized, flattening his tongue and licking up your pussy, "Just me."

Heavy against the bed, you fell back, the creaks and groans of the frame and mattress reminding you that you'd have to be much more quiet if you didn't want to alert your friends sleeping just on the other side. Easy enough was a farfetched thought as Wolfwood licked up the expanse of you again, arms looping under and around your legs, fingers digging into your inner thighs. He brought two fingers down, circling your clit as he tongued around your pulsing entrance, having you squeezing around nothing.

"W–Wol– ah! " You squeaked when he slapped your clit, "Nick! "

The depraved groan he breathed into your pussy made your stomach do flips, bringing one hand down to his hair and the other up to your mouth, biting down on the meat underneath your pinky. He was relentless, completely devoid of rhyme or reason but absolutely he knew what he was doing would drive you up the wall. His fingers and mouth changed places, the slow stretch of two fingers sliding into your dripping pussy making you keen for him. The curl of his fingers, the way he pushed and pulled just right made you see stars but it just wasn't enough.

"Nick– f–fuck, please," Your begs and pleas dripped from your mouth like honey, sweet and syrupy and tantalizing. "Please, more, pleasepleaseplease–"

It would be a lie to say you didn't know what your begging and pleading did to Wolfwood, it would be a lie to say you didn't see him rocking his hips up into nothing when you peered down at him devouring you whole. It would also be a lie to say that isn't exactly what you wanted, to push him to his breaking point so he would absolutely wreck you, because it was obvious he was going to take his time in teasing and toying with you.

His fingers moved faster, managing to stroke a particularly spongy spot inside of you that made your back arch and your hips jump, and the fucked out noise you moaned into your hand was downright sinful. That seemed to be the desired effect, because Wolfwood was abusing that spot like a man on a mission, his tongue working in time with your clit to send you hurdling over the edge at break–neck speed. The hand you were holding to your mouth shot down, both hands gripping his hair as you rocked your hips up into his mouth and hands.

It hit you like a truck, temporarily blinding you. Your hands clenched in his hair, looking for any kind of purchase to help ground you from your earth-shattering orgasm, his free hand coming up to press down into your pelvis, preventing you from squirming and bucking up too much. You whined, gasped, moaned, and pleaded too much, please stop stop too much before his mouth was pulling off of you, fingers slowing to a stop inside you.

Your entire body went limp, eyes wide as you stared up at the dingy motel ceiling. You didn't know how you were ever supposed to be satisfied with your own fingers again, let alone another person.
A distant chuckle snapped you back, your eyes trailing down to see Wolfwood now shirtless, working at the belt and button of his pants.

"Y'look fucked," He mused, pushing his pants and underwear down at the same time, "Hope you didn't think I was done with you yet."

It was a visceral effort to not stare at his cock as it bounced between his legs when he stood up straight. He was thick, and definitely longer than anything you had taken until now. You didn't have much time to gawk, considering he was hooking his arms under your legs and tossing you to lay on the bed properly without a seconds notice.

He crawled up and between your thighs, coaxing your knees to hook around his hips and circle his waist while he sat back on his haunches. His thumb pressed against the base of his cock, hips slowly moving back and forth as he dragged through your slick and his spit. He hissed, his tip catching on your hole just briefly, before he went back to teasing up and down. Your drawn out whine made him grin wolfishly, but he didn't say anything. You knew he wanted you to beg.

"Please, Nick," You whined, fingers gripping the crumpled sheets below you, "Please fuck me, I need you."

"Fuck, you look good like this," Wolfwood sucked a breath through his teeth, thumb angling himself down to catch on your entrance once again. "So pretty, begging like a whore."

The praise and degradation made you wail, as did the slow slide of every ridge and vein of his cock as he slid himself in you to the hilt. You were surrounded by him, drowning in him, every scent and sight and touch was nothing but Wolfwood and you would gladly die like this. He leaned down on his forearms, one hand coming to the center of your lower back and angling your hips up so he could drive even deeper and you swear you saw God.

He started slow, only pulling out an inch and pushing back in, his lips on your neck, jaw, temple, as he slowly worked you through any potential discomfort.

"F–Fucking– feels like you're in my throat," You sighed, hands coming up to claw at his shoulders. He chuckled, biting down on your pulse points. "So deep, so big. Please move, I need–"

As soon as your plea graced your lips, he had pulled his cock out to the tip, then slammed back in with fervor. You cried out, only vaguely aware of the headboard slamming into the wall with equal force. You couldn't see straight, let alone think straight, with the brute force behind his thrusts. He was still taking his time devouring you, savoring you, his pace slow but deep and hard. You could swear you felt his cock tip reach your guts with every thrust, his name a mantra on your lips and your fingers scribing his shoulders and back.

"So tight," Wolfwood huffed, hips bucking out of pace for a mere second, "Feels so fucking good." He was losing himself in you, emphasizing his words with harsh thrusts, his eyes rolling back into his head as he sped up.

All you could do was hang onto him, desperately raising your hips in time with him in an attempt to get him further, closer deeper. He was intoxicating, the woodsy second-hand smoke emanating from him paired with his thick cock pushing you harder and harder into the bed making you drunk off of him.

You couldn't string together a coherent sentence to tell him how fucking good he felt, only punched out moans and shrill cries of s'good, fuck me, harder, faster. He took them just as well, eventually folding you in on yourself. Your knees ended up over his shoulders, his arms outstretched and hands against the headboard as he fucked down into you with vicious ferocity. The constant bang of the bed frame against the wall getting faster, and you couldn't find it in yourself to be shameful if it ended up waking your companions, because you were lurching closer and closer to the edge you could taste it.

"So good, you're so good, too good f'r me," Wolfwood panted in your ear, a hand coming down to grab your cheeks and crush his lips against yours in an agonizingly desperate kiss. It was deliciously wet, all tongue, spit dribbling down your chin.

Another two, three, four thrusts, and you were whining into him, trying to voice I'm cumming, fuck fuck fuck I'm cumming, only to have it sinfully swallowed up in his gluttony for you and your desire. Your pussy squeezed him like a vice, trembling and quaking and milking him for everything he was worth. He pulled back panting, a sheen of sweat illuminated by the moons peering through the window. You barely got to say please cum inside by the time he was already pulling out, fisting his cock to completion. He groaned, spurts of his seed coating your pussy, stomach, and chest.

"Fuck, f–hah, should've said something sooner," Wolfwood huffed, voice low and gravelly, "Would've filled you to the fuckin brim."

You should've been ashamed that your pussy quivered at the thought.

Both of you were panting, eyes half-mast, staring at each other with an equally amused and fucked-out expression. He was the first to crack, a chuckle leaving his lips as he unfolded you from your position underneath him. A swift smack to your ass made you squeak before your legs fell back to the bed, sprawling out like a starfish. He leaned over the bed, picking up an article of clothing and wiping you off with it. You quickly recognized it being the fabric of his button-up, your cheeks flushing at the thought of him walking around with everyone cum-stained tomorrow.

Once you were sufficiently cleaned up, though still sticky with sweat, he tossed his shirt back to the floor and flopped down onto the bed beside you. The bed creaked and groaned under his weight, threatening to give out if there was even the slightest bit of extra exertion on it's frail frame. His arm snuck under your head, nudging you to lean into his side and cuddle up against him. Your arm slung over his torso, hand slowly sliding up and curling gently against his chest. His heart hammered in his chest, much faster than it should be by now, and when you looked up you were surprised to meet his eyes.

It was quiet, and you simply watched as he processed his inner turmoil, waiting for him to come to a conclusion on what he wanted to say to you. Finally, he quietly muttered, "Will you stay with me tonight?"

You beamed, watching his ears glow red at his request, simply settling for a nod. You rest your head against his chest again, slinging a leg over his thigh, eyes sliding shut for what you think was one of the best nights sleep you've had in years.



The morning after, you woke to three loud consecutive knocks on the door. You groaned quietly, turning away from the noise. Four knocks now, this time harder, had you groaning just a little bit louder. You heard a sigh from beside you, then a gentle pap pap on your ass, before the weight on the bed shifted. Turning your head, you watched a still very naked Wolfwood march his way over to the door, the scratches running down his back and shoulders still angry, red and irritated.

He cracked the door open, keeping the deadbolt fastened. "What?" He drawled, clearly unimpressed he was woken up from his slumber with you, "Someone better be dying."

"Oh you're just as rude first thing in the morning, great," You heard Meryl, irritation dripping from her voice. She said your name briefly, trying to get another three words in before Wolfwood started closing the door.

"Don't know, probably around somewhere. Be out in a bit."

The sound of her cursing him from behind the door made you giggle, hands coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound. When he turned around, Wolfwood looked just as amused, plucking your clothes off the floor and tossing them to you.

"That's not gonna buy you a lot of time," He chided, watching you slide your shirt over your head as he pulled his underwear and pants up his legs, "Better get going."

"Yeah– I'll probably get an earful either way though," You laughed, walking over to your shoes as you put your shorts on. You were going to say something about have fun with your cum-shirt, but a hand grabbed at your hip and spun you around before you could slip your shoes on properly. You turned around, surprised by the soft kiss placed on your lips.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing," Wolfwood looked away, his blazer slung over his shoulder, "If... I don't know if you–"

"No, I'd like to do this again... and again and again."

His ears and neck were red, making you laugh. You went to pull away, but his hand was steadfast on your hip, grip unwavering as he stared into you. You watched him inquisitively, blinking in confusion, what else needed to be said?

"I did– do, I do want you, by the way."

The way you looked at him must have been absolutely bewildered, incredulous, before you snorted, stifling a laugh in the back of your hand. "I think you showed me that much, Nick."

He cleared his throat, taking a step back and looking away, his face a deep crimson. "R–Right, yeah– I did."

You unlocked the deadbolt, then the door, twisting the knob and opening it just a crack. Looking back at him over your shoulder, you grinned, giving a little wave.

"I'll see you at breakfast?"

"... Yeah, see you at breakfast."

And with your final goodbyes, you shuffled off to your room discreetly, getting ready for the day.



It was a race against time and you won, managing to get changed in record speed and go downstairs to find Meryl and Roberto sitting across from Vash in the small diner attached to your motel. You smiled, waving, and made up some piss poor excuse about trying to find some cheap clothing stores along the market strip. You sat beside Vash, who was uncharacteristically quiet, his cheeks and ears a dark red, as opposed to their usual pale pink glow. Maybe you interrupted a sore subject.

Not even a minute behind you, Wolfwood came strolling through a door, a very obvious damp patch on the front of his shirt where he had selectively scrubbed his cum out. Vash scooted over, then you, allowing room for Wolfwood to squeeze in beside you at the end.

Conversation picked up as food and coffee was served, but Vash continued to stay mostly quiet, only ever piping up when addressed or spoken to. At some point you got concerned, placing a gentle hand on his metallic arm. He jumped, looking down at you, then over your shoulder, as you muttered a quiet, "Hey, what's up? You've been really quiet today."

Cerulean eyes glanced back down at you as he weakly and nervously chuckled, seeming to not completely want to divulge in what was bothering him so much. You pursed your lips, giving him a knowing look.

"Ahaha, w–well, I mean... last night I heard–"

Wolfwood's knee jumped, hitting under the table beside you and shaking all the cups, plates, and cutlery strewn across it. Coffee was spilled, forks were lost, and audible disappointment was voiced from more than one party.

"What was that, Spikey?" Wolfwood muttered through his teeth.

As messes were hurriedly wiped, Wolfwood leaned back in his seat, peering over your head and glaring at the blond sitting beside you. They held eye contact, and all you could do was nervously glance between them.

".... Y'know, I was probably just imagining things!" Vash exclaimed, running a hand through his fluffy hair. "Roberto snores pretty loud!"

There was some back and forth between Meryl and Roberto that seemed mostly one sided, leaving you room to heave out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. God, how embarrassing would that have been?

A hand on your thigh grabbed your attention, eyes glancing up at a very nonchalant Wolfwood that was leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Guess you still got an audience."